The Magician

Magic is a very curious thing....

     It was a rather warm summer day. I was at the train station, awaiting a friend, when he stepped off the three o�clock train, which had just rolled in. Clothes covered in dust, with a big brown suitcase and matching top hat, he was not the kind of person you would expect him to be. Of course, an unusual man brings the more unusual of situations, and that�s of course exactly what happened, for if it wasn�t there�d be no point in telling the story.

This little town had always been the bane of boring. Work, work, work, it seemed like something had gone missing over the years...like the magic was lost. But then he came to town. A traveling magician, he was. From the moment he stepped onto the platform, the tricks never seemed to stop. I thought he was enjoyable, that he had brought a little life back to this little place that had somehow got blown away like dust in the wind. Everyone else on the other hand thought otherwise. They simply thought of him as some cheap con-man, out to trick the innocent out of their hard earned cash. It didn�t take long before these tricks of his were thought of as a menace, and soon enough his art blacklisted by the citizens, his shows of enjoyment Avoided by children and adults alike. Magic was truly dead in this desolate place. Everyone simply wanted him to go, but not me. His work, his art...it was more needed here then anything.

So one afternoon, I confronted him. He was sitting under a large oak tree, shuffling a deck of cards. His shuffling skills were quite superb. Noticing me and thinking I was there to see a trick, he put half the deck down and told me to pick a card. I decided I would play along. I held it up to may face, trying to keep him from seeing it. Ace of spades, it was. He took a moment, stared a hole into the card, and flicked his wrist. In the blink of an eye, a card magically appeared between his fingers. He turned it over, and behold, it was the ace of spades. I was quite impressed. I wanted to help him win the trust of the town, and also wanted to learn how he did what he did. Over the next week, he taught me all kinds of simple tricks. Not only was it quite the learning experience, but it was fun. More fun then I'd had in ages.

Though, the more fun I had, the more the town the town stood unimpressed. Apparently convincing them was much harder then I anticipated. Being cut off from the bounds of the society outside of the little space where they worked and kept their lives, they simply thought I was turned into a puppet...under the Magicians spell, if you will. I of course thought they were simply being far too judgmental for their own good. How could a little magic trick hurt anyone? But alas, it soon it seemed nothing could stop them from keeping their anger at bay, and it got to the point where they had completely had enough.

One night, they grabbed anything they could find, torches and pitchforks and things that would certainly cause quite a smash, and made their way to the local inn, where my magician friend happened to be staying. The premise of this midnight visit was simple. Both him and his magic leave and never return, or if he refused, they would have no choice but to force him out. He knew he wasn't wanted, and that magic wasn't wanted. He had heard the rumors and the jeers and the insults and taken much un-needed criticism. So, being the kind hearted man that he was, and not wanting to throw in an altercation, he chose to leave town. He seemed to be only passing through regardless. I was, of course, heartbroken in knowing that I had seemingly failed. All he wanted to do was bring a little happiness, a little joy to a place so seemingly devoid of it, and they shoved him out the door like a rather Disgusting piece of furniture.

At dawn the next morning, he packed up his suitcase, and made his way out of town. I knew he had to go, even if I didn't want him too, so I woke up early to say my goodbyes. I caught him right on time, as he was just on his way out with his suitcase and patched up brown top hat. When I got his attention, I said what I had wanted to say all along.
"Thank you."
He probably didn't get those words often, but that doesn't mean he didn't deserve them. Hearing them made him smile.
"You�re welcome." he said. And with that, he was on his way. On to a new adventure, a new town, a new way of life. To this day his tricks live on through me, and in time, I gave the town the one thing it needed, whether they wanted it or not. I gave them the gift of magic. In taking on that torch, I soon took on his Jeers, his Insults. My house was burned to the ground and I can�t say that I didn�t a few cuts and scrapes from being repeatedly punched in the face. But they soon gave up, seeing how they couldn�t get rid of me no matter how much they tried.

Years passed, years spent in constant isolation. Magic was my only love, my only friend. I was sitting under that old oak tree, the very same one I had confronted my mentor under years before, practicing a particularly difficult vanishing act involving a handkerchief and a pocket-watch. I thought I had almost had it, when suddenly a voice rang out at me.
�That�s a rather neat trick mister!� it said.
I almost jumped and hit my head on one of the branches above me. As far as I could tell, no one had talked to me for ages. I looked up, and there stood a little boy, no older then nine. Startled, I tried to force a smile.
�You think magic is neat?� I asked.
The boy nodded, sitting down in front of me. Smiling, I pulled a deck of cards from my pocket.

It was not long before I had taken him under my wing, just as that dusty old magician had done with me years ago. Finally, I had made progress. I had made someone believe, brought some magic back to this boring old town. That of course, was all I could have ever asked for.

Reviews

[Idyllwyld]

A heartwarming tale, far different than The Magician I know of, heh.

Some minor verb-tense confusions, I think, although I'm no English major so I won't hold it against you. Just pointing it out in case you wanted to look at it later.

While you make it clear why the townspeople dislike the magician and want to kick him out of town, it seems like there could be one or two more concrete examples to really warrant such vehement reaction. Maybe he inadvertently makes a fool out of the town sheriff or mayor, for example. Or maybe the town is just fundamentalist Christian ^.-

But, overall, I enjoyed reading it. The scene under the oak tree reminded me of a similar scene from The Illusionist, which I fondly recall. Just seeing the title immediately grabbed my attention. "Magic is a curious thing" indeed...